Page 167 of Crocodile Tears

“You can’t prostitute an IS – it’s illegal,” Alex said staunchly.

“Aw, there you go again with your sudden concern for the law. Although I notice you didn’t care so much about it when you were stealing all those millions.” Tyler raised an amused eyebrow.

“You’re right, of course – itisillegal, but what I’m doing is a bit of a grey area. No money will change hands – it’s more of a favour, an incentive, if you like. I’ve found it useful when dealing with petty officialdom – the kind of halfwits who get to hand out planning warrants for this very floating city we’re standing on, for example. Big business people can usually afford to buy their own ISs to service their sexual peccadillos, but the little people can’t. They can’t accept a monetary bribe in case their bank accounts are audited – but the attentions of a beautiful escort for a night or two?” Tyler shrugged. “I find that works wonders.”

“Sothisis who you are?” Alex asked witheringly. “Even if your story about my mother being in love with you is true, she would have left you the minute she found out this is what you’re really like.”

Tyler lashed out again, delivering another backhander to his jaw that sent him flying backwards. Solange gasped, reaching out her hand towards him before withdrawing it quickly.

“You’ll do it,” Tyler told him firmly, standing over him. “Solange, here, takes care of my straight male clients and the dykes; you’ll service the straight women and the gays.”

“You can’t make me,” Alex said mulishly.

“Yes, I can. You seem to be forgetting that I own you now.” Tyler looked down on him, his triumph complete. “You’re the most hatedman in Britain, Alexander. You killed your mother, crippled your brother, and stole from your father. Nobody loves you, nobody is coming to rescue you, and nobody will care if I beat your sorry hide until you beg for mercy.”

His breathing was coming in staccato bursts, and he seemed almost orgasmic at the idea.

“I’ll dress you in expensive suits, and you’ll spend your evenings laughing at some boring fart’s jokes. Afterwards, you’ll take them to your room and let them do whatever the hell they like to you.” Tyler gazed down at him contemptuously. “You’ve always been for sale. You sold yourself to Neil in exchange for his silence, and you sold yourself to Solange for croc. You’re a whore, Alexander – I’m just making it official.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

OCTOBER 2095

Josiah

Josiah trudged wearily back up the stairs to his bedroom. He was so tired that he couldn’t be bothered to put his clothes away neatly, so he left them in an untidy heap on the armchair instead. Then he threw himself down on the bed in his boxer shorts and a tee-shirt.

He glanced at his holopad to see that it was past midnight. Although he was exhausted, he didn’t want to sleep. The nightmares that had haunted him for the previous two nights were still there, waiting for him. He closed his eyes and tried to settle himself, his mind going easily to happier times.

They left Rosengarten at dawn. Standing in the clearing where they’d made love, Josiah took one last look around.

“Saying goodbye?” Peter asked.

“Nah. Saying good riddance.” He held out his hand. Peter took it, and they walked back to the jeep together.

“Is this really the way to Geneva?” he asked several hours later, waking from a nap and glancing out of the window.

“Yup – the slow way.” Peter winked. “The very slow way. We mightneed to stop off a few times and spend a couple of weeks out here, all by ourselves.”

Josiah looked at him suspiciously. “What exactly did you tell them about why I was missing?”

“I said you’d fallen ill, so we left you somewhere safe, but it might take some time to retrieve you.”

Josiah gave him a stern glare. “I have no idea how someone who enjoys breaking the rules so much ever reached the rank of captain.”

Peter laughed. “I’m the only commanding officer in the Peacekeeping Corps never to have lost a convoy. I keep asking for these missions, so they keep giving them to me. Most of the officers who run these convoys burn out – or die – but I keep going. That earns me a lot of leeway.”

“Hattie…” Josiah said slowly, and the black dog sitting behind him heard her name and swiped her tongue across the back of his neck. “When I first met you, and you asked me to hide her… that was all crap, wasn’t it? The army would have let you keep her. With your record, they couldn’t have cared less if you adopted a dog on your travels. Hell, they’d probably have let you adopt an entire pack if you wanted.”

“Probably. Yeah,” Peter agreed.

“So what was the point of that whole charade of making me hide her? Was it just to generate some rule-breaking drama for yourself? Have you ever thought that maybe you’re addicted to breaking the rules just for the hell of it?”

“Maybe… or maybe I was testing the mettle of my new sergeant, to see how well he could think on his feet.” Peter smiled at him sweetly. “I might also have been a little bowled over by how strapping and attractive that new sergeant was,” he added.

“Bullshit,” Josiah snorted. Peter laughed and pulled him in for a kiss.

They quickly left behind the areas where the scavs had a foothold, and spent their days meandering through a series of pretty German towns and villages. They took lodgings at night, or slept out in fields and forests, where they made love, over and over again.

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